4
Late October, midnight at the palace
A lone chime sounded in the night, all is well. A few minutes later, a tall thin stranger approached the gates of the huge palace.
The chiming from the palace door now altered. Instead of the usual ring of the tower, it now was a slow dong, dong. At the servant's quarters, all of the girls are asleep, except one.
Isabelle was suddenly was aware that the sound of the bell chiming from the palace door was different: Someone was at the gates.
She had been awake for some time now, but hastened to put on her robe and slippers, so she would not ignore the bells.
Isabelle started along the stairs, heading towards the queen's chamber. It was a long, slow walk down the two flights of stairs; Isabelle flinched at every creak, praying that no one had yet woken.
When she got to the queen's chamber, she rapped loudly on the door, impatient.
A few seconds passed, and then the queen emerged, with a dagger in hand, ready for trouble. "What is going on, Isabelle, is it an intruder, by chance?" The queen asked. Isabelle whispered, "No, ma'am, it is an outsider, maybe a soldier, waiting at the gates."
Isabelle led the queen to the front door, which she opened a fraction, looked out, then pulled back hastily. Isabelle had seen what had caused the queen to draw back so quickly, it was one of the soldiers from Devonshire; he had a rapier at his side, drawn and at the ready.
"My lady, will you not let me speak?" The soldier called.
Queen Cairn opened the door and looked up at the young man on the pure black stallion, his face only half-visible in the fading lamplight. She replied, "Why sir, I should think not!" "It is midnight!" The boy said, "Sorry M' lady, this is an urgent matter. Off the coast, another invasion . . . "He trailed off.
The queen asked, "What is your name and status?" The boy was hesitant this time. "My name is Marshal Thresh, and I am a front line soldier, madam." The queen was stunned.
"But, you must only be . . . 16!" "How can that be, that they enrolled a boy?"
Marshal ignored this, and then whispered quickly, "Madam, you must listen-," Marshal gasped, and all the strength went out of his body. He fell off his horse, about five feet off the ground, with a soft thump.
The queen had stepped outside, and had punched Marshal, right below his ear.
Isabelle gasped, "My lady, how could you do that!" "I could have killed him." Queen Cairn replied curtly. She turned and walked stiffly down the stairs. Isabelle then turned and ran over to Marshal's limp form.
She picked him up easily. Isabelle was only 15, but she found that he must have barely weighed 60 pounds. She would have to keep an eye on him, to make sure that he did not get to cold during the night. Isabelle carried him up the stairs, and into a spare room next to hers. That way, if he had a turn for it, then she would not be far.
When the evening fell upon the palace, two days after the incident, Marshal finally awoke.
He was not surprised that he was lying in a bed at the palace, but what did surprise him was this: When he looked at his hands, his fingertips had scars on them. He had not seen these marks before. Marshal had expected pain, but this time, it did not come, instead, a strange feeling of deja- vu.
During Marshal's childhood, he had been the first to join the army. The road from there was not perfect, and he had faced the most horrible side of London. He knew more than any other boy, had seen too many killed, and had killed too many himself by the time he was 13.
It had been his father that insisted on this, although he might not have taken the fact that Marshal had died thrice in his life, only to have been revived by a vampire.
He had been saved, but no one knows why, but the villagers knew this: Marshal was a vampire, and no one could lay a hand on him. He knew that the same vampire had saved him last night, when he was most vulnerable. That vampire's name was Isabelle.
Later that evening, when Marshal was in the reception hall, he found that every one of the crew was awake, and performing some sort of ceremony. The floor was clear, and they were dancing around a mark; saying in the ancient language of the vampires.
"On this day of the living, we welcome the spirit of another; great ones pass his spirit on to us now, and let him join the circle." Marshal pulled in a breath, feeling his spirit pulled towards the mark on the floor.
Marshal thought about this for a minute, and then it clicked, "Of course! This is the ceremony they perform when turning another into a vampire. I've been through this before." Marshal relaxed, then walked slowly over to the circle.
He walked through the ring of people, into the middle where Isabelle was waiting.
She held out her hand, not looking at him. Marshal took her hand, then whispered,
"I am so sorry, Isabelle, I did not mean for it to be this way. That you had to save me again, had you let me die, I would have come back to you; just not in the way that you would expect."
"I didn't know that, b-but it . . . it was . . . just so hard, watching you die before me. I knew that I did not have the strength to let you go, because, even after all the years of hating you, you being so pure, I-I love you." Isabelle sobbed.
Marshal did not know how to explain that he felt the same way, but in his heart he knew, that she was the one. With his heart beating in his throat, he leaned over, and kissed her.
The next morning, when Isabelle was doing her chores, she found herself daydreaming. She did not hear Marshal come up behind her. When he growled, she screamed, grabbed him, pulled his head back, drew her blade and put it to his throat.
Marshal whispered in her ear, "Hey! I thought that I wasn't supposed to die until next week!"
When she realized that it was Marshal, she released him, and then whispered frantically, "Marshal, you have to stop doing that, otherwise, the guards might come up here and kill you!" He only laughed, and then disappeared out the window, into the gloom of the early dawn.
Isabelle sighed, she could hear him bounding about in the forest of a garden below, trying to tease her into coming outside. She leaned out the window, and slid out. Clinging to the windowsill, she gathered her strength, and jumped.
It was a long way down, but she managed to land on the balls of her feet, making no sound. Isabelle then ran over to the place where she could see Marshal hiding.
He was bending over something when Isabelle jumped on his back. He started to panic, when she silenced him by jabbing her finger into the pressure point below his ear.
Marshal collapsed without a sound, and then Isabelle picked him up, and flitted over to the palace wall. She was judging how well she thought she could do the jump, when Marshal moaned. Isabelle did not even think, she just jumped, and by a very short distance, she was lucky.
She had barely had enough time to haul Marshal in, before she let go, and was falling. A hand whipped out of nowhere, and grabbed her hand, before she could fall past the second story window.
Isabelle looked up, and saw Marshal clinging precariously to the edge of the window with one hand. He said hoarsely, "Isabelle, you have to stop doing those stupid stunts, or we could both end up dead!" "You have to trust me, ok?" Isabelle, who was worried about them falling to their death, said quickly, "Alright." Marshal then told her to let go. Isabelle took a deep breath, and then released her hand.
She hardly had enough time to blink, before she was in Marshal's arms, on the ground. Marshal was breathing hard, but seemed to have suffered no injuries from the drop. A minute later, Isabelle asked, "Are you alright?" Marshal grimaced, and then said, "No, I think my ankle is broken."
When Isabelle knelt down, she noticed that Marshal had lifted his right ankle off the ground. She gently pulled it down, and probed the top of his foot. Marshal inhaled sharply, and then Isabelle stood up, and lowered him to the ground. Isabelle pulled his shoe off gently, ripped a piece of cloth off the leg of her pants and set his ankle, so it would heal faster.
Isabelle saw that his face was bone white, and he was clenching his fists. She knew that he was tough, but now, he needed to get inside, before the chill set in.
Isabelle picked Marshal up, and then said, "Are you ready?" Marshal started to say something, but stopped, gritted his teeth, then suddenly relaxed; he had passed out.
Isabelle adjusted herself, so that she was cradling Marshal in her arms, summoned the remains of her strength, and then she was running.
Isabelle flitted past the guards at the gate, past the queen's chamber, and up to her room, where 11 other girls waited for her return.
When Isabelle returned, the girls were eager to help, the event breaking into the monotony of their schedule. What the keepers had not realized was that all the girls have some special talent, whether it was magic, or something more serious, they could all cope with the tougher tasks. Isabelle said to them, "We need to escape, and soon. Why, I cannot say, yet. "Then she had left them to their work, heading out to survey the guards. As soon as they had finished healing Marshal's ankle, they then turned to the more serious task at hand: coming up with a way to sneak out of the castle, to protect themselves.
Zarina, one of the younger girls, who saw the future, told them what would happen. She got to the point where they escaped, but trying to see more, was impossible.
After Zarina had told them what to do, they awakened Marshal, and lept into action, runnig out to the grounds. They then found a shocking sight...